Road to Trinidad Carnival

As vibrant colors and hues of chocolate perfection come down the avenue to the sweet soca tunes for this year you will feel nothing short of a euphoria and an urge to twirl. Trinidad's Carnival is your runway, you are the showstopper. Everyone showstops with you, love and joy overflows, and enjoyment abounds. If you've ever needed a time and a place to leave your worries at home and experience pure joy and an another opportunity to love on yourself, bond with strangers, and feel like a goddess, then t and t is your place. The only issue is that after all of this you are bound to never want to leave, in fact you feel like chipping along with the soundtrack of your first carnival blasting from the trucks that roll behind you...

In late August, something came over me and I decided to ask my cousin if she would be interested in going to Trinidad Carnival in February 2016. That something was the feeling of sadness I felt seeing my entire timeline on social media at Trinidad carnival last year while I scrolled from my living room couch in Gisenyi, Rwanda. A year ago I was dreaming about attending carnival. The dreams started from as early as our young adolescence and teenage years when we used to go to DC carnivals.

Even though I had come up with the idea and got my cousin on board, she took off with the idea. She took off soooo fast that there were times when I wanted to back out and wondered why I even asked her! She began to research and found a package deal that would include our band entry, costumes, meals/drinks for carnival Monday and Tuesday, a 5-day hotel stay and lots of other things. Though I had just started my first semester of graduate school, I was fortunate enough to be offered a Graduate Assistantship that not only matched my experiences, but was really just created for me I think ;) and at a pivotal time. My cousin lucked out here because I couldn't use the "I don't have any money" card here.

After months of planning, and online shopping, and daydreaming, and soca mixes, and smoothies, and guilty feelings about forgetting to work out, and days when I wondered what I had gotten myself into, the day finally came when I met my cousin in Miami and to begin our sojourn to the land of carnival---sweet, sweet TnT.

We arrived at Piarco airport, exchanged our currencies, got a small phone for local calls and even at the airport as people grabbed their bags and waited for their rides, there was a sense of calm before the storm all in anticipation of what the next few days would bring.

Our arranged transportation to the hotel chatted us all the way to the hotel but not before we stopped on the roadside to grab some hottttt (and I mean hot!) jerk chicken and rice and peas and a cold drink.

Upon arrival to the hotel we were met with the sounds of soca blasting from the poolside. Our first fete----Scorch: Duck Work was awaiting us. So we rushed to get ready and donned our liveliest swimsuits for this poolside bash. If Scorch was any indicator of what the next few days would be like, then we were ready and excited. Just that night, through all the feteing, wining, there were conversations to be had and just in those few hours, I met interesting people. Quite cool, I thought.

This year we decided to take it easy on the fetes so we didn’t register and pay for every single fete possible and frankly, I enjoyed this strategy. It kept us refreshed and fully able to enjoy the events and fetes that we did go to. We did Scorch, Private Ryan’s Soca Brainwash, Sunnyside Up, played j'ouvert with Cocoa Devils and of course, Carnival Monday and Tuesday, with our band-YUMA! Next year, we will definitely add Caesar’s Ambush and two or three more fetes given the length of our stay.

J'ouvert was a blast, despite the fact that I actually do not prefer to have stuff like chocolate, paint and oil, on my face or really anywhere on me. In the wee hours of the morning, we awoke to put on funky gear and headed out. Whether or not you are hungry at 4am, you better eat because chippin’ down the road on an empty stomach to your favorite songs is not a good look. Eat up. Corn soup it was.

just before hittin' the road with the cocoa devils

cousin love always

sheer enjoyment

someone caught me mid-vibe

After J'ouvert morning festivities, we played smart again and got some rest instead of heading right about with our group to meet our band on the road for Carnival Monday. We got back to the hotel and were expected to have an hour or less for turnaround. Not happening. we changed out of our chocolatey J'ouvert gear, showered, got some rest and then it was time to don our Carnival Monday Wear. I Rep Sierra Leone (by way of the DMV) so you know what my outfit had to look like ;)

Carnival Monday was the warm up for us and the anticipating for the main event had been building. I had a blast at Carnival Monday, but pretty much I had been having a blast everywhere with enough roti, wings, doubles, gyros, and coconut water in between to keep me energized. Monday night is really the only night where there isn’t too much planned because it is understood that you need to get rest for the big day. I’ll be honest: I was overwhelmed with excitement and the thought of how things would go, but there is really no way I could have prepared for the level of euphoria that I felt on the road on Tuesday, especially after the sun began to cool down.

costume pick up had me feeling like wedding day!

We woke up early on Tuesday Morning to put on the main elements of our costumes and then headed downstairs to get extra pretty with make up, eyelashes, colorful eye shadow, bright bold lips, and gems. If you know me well then you know that I use minimal makeup. On this day, however, and in this year, I have decided to push myself to do things outside of my comfort zone and challenge myself in different ways. So I went all out for carnival, but in general that’s my new theme. Besides, the make up brings it all together with the beauty of the costume. Ready for the road…

We snapped a few pictures in front of our hotel, made videos, took as many selfies as possible and then headed out to meet up with our band. Once the parade began, the feeling of seeing so many women beautifully adorned in their costumes, with the Caribbean sun shining down on all shades was a sight to see. So many different body types, shapes, figures, shades, and all positive affirmation that we ALL look good.

There were times when I simply felt the freedom to twirl with my arms wide open as my feathers kissed my hair ringlets, and the sequins and gems from my costumes reflected light onto my chocolate skin. Perhaps, it’s the costume, the extra beauty you feel, the crowd that surrounds the route to watch you joined with the sweet melodies of the soca season that moved me to feel this indescribable joy and gratefulness that I felt. Or perhaps it’s the fact that deep down inside, I have always wanted to dance in the streets. So I’ve done it and that feeling is an experience I wish for all to have. Who is ready for the road next year?  I hope the pictures convince you.

until next time carnival

Bee’s Backseat…Next up---somewhere in Africa!

Odyssey of the Heart: Girls and Goals

Just a few days shy of my departure from Sierra Leone, I was invited to talk on a Sports Talk radio show on Kalleone Jams. I will admit that I avoided the offer a few times, because at this point, I was burned out from the constant going and coming of family visits, and wanted to spend my last few days wallowing in love, food, and immediate family. I wanted to put up a sign that said “Come back later---after my plane leaves.” But the guy who invited me to the show was none other than Mohammed Sesay, aka Medo, a soccer player, law student, avid supporter of youth initiatives, and of course, a brother to me. I gave in to the invite. And today, I am grateful that I did, because my speaking on that radio show opened up the door for me to reach 20 more girls and in a unique way, that I could have never imagined before coming to Sierra Leone. God (and the universe) really does conspire in your favor.

“You know say we nor get freedom of speech nah yah,” Medo warned. He was reminding me to beware of what I said on the airwaves as the last time several students were arrested for airing their grievances on a radio show. Shortly after the show began airing, police arrived to arrest them. I took note of this, as I would have hated to close out my amazing vacation by being jailed for offending the government. Albeit, I really had no intention of speaking on politics anyway, as I am not well versed in the layers of the current political situation.

The show’s host welcome his listeners to the show, gave them the latest news on sports happenings, and then peaked their curiosity by telling them that he had a young lady in the studio. People called in, asked questions about my background. They asked mostly about how an American-born child could be so fluent in Krio; I myself don’t know how I pulled that one off because even when I was on the radio in the DMV, I couldn’t speak on serious topics in Krio. Oh and for the record, I did ask if I could speak in English, but they reminded me that maybe some old woman in a village upline would be listening in and wouldn’t understand me. So I made it through...all for that old woman upline. *upline = provinces

I spoke a bit about my background in youth development and sports program development and how I believed that sports are in fact an effective approach to positive youth development. So now the people wanted to know WHAT my plans were for sports and youth in Sierra Leone, what I came to do, what I would do and more importantly, if I would move to Sierra Leone to do these projects and more importantly, WHEN. I assured them that I do intend on going back home to develop some of projects I have in mind; however, I emphasized that there should be no rush in this process and that they should move away from the notion that anyone and everyone abroad can come home, jump start projects, and solve problems. It takes time, I told them, and the last thing I want to do is stick my hand in the pot, without assessing how hot it is. I want to have a plan of action that will come only after truly assessing the needs of the populations I want to serve. It will come.

And just when I thought I could relax and enjoy what little time I had left, or prepare for the nostalgia that I knew was to follow, I was called in again by Medo because of the response to the topic on the show. No radio show this time. This time they wanted me to address an all-girls football (soccer) club, FC Mahmoud. To this, I said a big, fat yes, because, of course, girls work---that’s just what I do! J Only problem was I only had two days left in Sierra Leone. So we agreed that I would meet with the girls on Thursday morning.

I was told that I would be picked up by a guy named Fred Claye, also known as the youth ambassador. He happened to live in Goderich so I needed nothing more to head to my getaway spot also in Goderich ;).

On the way, Fred Claye asked that question, the magic question: how are you going to help them? I told him that I wasn’t. I told him that I was going to listen to them. Teach maybe. Give some words of advice maybe. Positively affect one, maybe I would do. All I wanted to do was to hear first hand what girls and women believe are the most pressing issues for them in Sierra Leone particularly as female athletes, in this case.

 The team of about 20 girls had been summoned to the Yhosven Hall. They had been told to arrive at 7am because they would be playing a match outside of town. They wouldn’t have come if they had been told they were having a meeting. I entered aware of my presence with my clunky, funky, very-foreigner like wooden-wedge heels, wondered what impression I was already making, and said a quick prayer to the public speaking Gods (in Krio as I needed the Krio language Gods to answer this particular prayer). I was introduced, and then the language Gods came through because I was able to address those girls in Krio and in a motivational tone. This was a first for me. I was able to tell the girls a little about myself, what I do, what I want to do, and ask them questions about themselves. 

 The pressing question from me to them was what they felt their challenges were as female soccer players in Sierra Leone. Some spoke up, gave issues, examples and I appreciated that. The girls said that they would like more encouragement and support from their families, to be valued as soccer players. From a western standpoint, one would imagine that would be an easy fix, but when you grow up in a house of immigrants, you realize that emotional and verbal encouragement isn’t always guaranteed, though it can have significant impact on youth. I can attest to that. There was always power in my mom showing up to events where I would be speaking. I would always look for her and even as she strolled in late, I was always elated by her mere presence. I still look for my parents’ support and approval in many aspects of my life, so I can totally understand where these young women were coming from. It is the reason I still send my daddy my blog posts first.

But Fred Claye knows more than I knew in this moment; he, without a doubt, recognized the importance of the women getting support from their families, but he also understood their reality in ways that I did not in the moment.  So he moved to do something that exemplified why in fact he is known as the youth ambassador. Cognizant of the fact that the girls had withheld some of their biggest challenges and plight, he picked on them.  One by one, he called on the girls to step up to the front of the room. One by one he questioned them in a way that only a keen observer and someone who is truly, deeply, dedicated and passionate to a cause could do. The questions he asked, forced them to stand face to face with their biggest challenges. Those questions also expanded my own thoughts, challenged my idea of their plight, and gave me much needed cultural insight and scope of the situation in Sierra Leone from these young women’s perspectives.

Fatmata, Haja, Messi.

Fatmata, what do you want to become?  A lawyer. Why do you want to become a lawyer. Explain your passion for law. Why do you want to become something like a lawyer. What skills do you have? What do you do to show your dedication to this field. This young woman could barely speak to any of these questions. Although, she was the first picked on, she had a difficult time answering where her passion or interest for law had developed. Fred Claye wanted her to see that in order for you to become something, you have to start with a plan, and start by taking action. By prioritizing. Taking what you want to do seriously. It was evident that for one reason or another, she couldn’t do this.

Haja. How does your family feel about you playing soccer? They strongly dislike it. How does your father feel about you playing soccer. He often forbids me to. Why doesn’t he want you to play soccer? I am a woman and he doesn’t want me to be travelling around boys. We are from a tribe that is associated with a certain religion that has strict rules on interactions with men before marriage. Haja have you tried talking to your dad about your desire to play soccer? Haja tell us how you would do that? She hesitated. It was extremely difficult for her. And thus this would be difficult to do in front of her father.

Messi. What have you noticed since you became one of the star players? People all over the streets recognize me. How do you behave in public? Do you realize why that matters? I notice that both boys and girls say that they want to be me. What does that mean to you Messi?

The final interrogation of Messi and her response triggered something within me. I recognized on the spot that one of the areas in which Sierra Leone lacks is positive youth development, which would include teaching youth how to set goals with respect to their environment. Many of my sisters have dreams, yes, but do not know how to create steps to achieve their dreams. I do not claim to be able to do all. But I do know that I know how to set goals, work towards them, and that I can teach something as simple as having goals and setting them. So Godwilling, I promised the girls, I would be back. And that this time I would come with a small workshop on a Saturday, where we talk about what they would like to accomplish both on and off the soccer field and how to accomplish those things.

The hard reality for these girls is that for many of them, soccer cannot be there end-all-be all. It is important for them to view their abilities, skills, passion, desire for soccer as the first step to a better tomorrow. We asked them this:  in 10 years, what will you stand in front of 20 girls sitting in the same chairs which you occupy today, and say? What will be your legacy as someone who has been gifted with the ability to score goals, run quickly down the field and to defend your team? What will be your contribution to girls like you?

That encouraging them to develop plan B is not to discourage them from playing and loving soccer, but for them to figure out how they will take their talents a step further.  That they should use their gifts to uplift is what I left them with. That a female soccer player today, will become the first female president of Sierra Leone, is what I left them with. And my whatsapp contact information, of course.

Vibrant Livin', Lovin' Via Argentina

The seat of cute little coffee shops, authentic cuisine from immigrant populations, and happy hour/lunch specials with boards luring customers in for deals. It is reminiscent of my favorite US city, (outside of my home city), Miami. The boards on the storefront telling you about today’s special or their restaurant’s specialty, the old men with big bellies smoking Cuban cigars, the young professionals enjoying a drink after a “hard day’s work,” the soccer fanatics watching Panama versus X, the wanderers like me. All of those things make Via Argentina an exciting place and my newest home in Panama City. It’s poppin’. 

arepas will be the death of my shape, lol.

sugar daddy belly

I can remember living in a space that I dreaded. That was back in college at Towson Run Apartments. Not sure if it was the time in my life and what the space represented, or if it was merely just the space that I had an issue with. But I seriously remember how scared I was to be there, especially alone. Something about that place just didn’t sit right with me then. I have learned in my life that my home, place of residence and certain rooms inspire different things for me. So forever neighborhoods, apartments, homes, flowers, plants, spaces, rooms, ambiance will always be something I take into deep consideration as I travel from place to place.

One year ago when I moved to Panama (le sigh…it’s been over a year already), I had noooo idea where I would live. I imagined living a little more low-key than I actually did; I had no expectation of living in a high rise in the city. In fact I thought I might just get a room in some older melon-painted apartment building and not have wi-fi, and not be in touch with my friends and family. When I arrived to Panama however, I saw that my living would be a little more uppity than I expected. Not exactly bougie, but just more than I anticipated.

I canvassed my new co-workers about areas that were close to my job in Paitilla. They told me I could live in San Francisco, Obarrio, Bella Vista, and a few other little pockets. I visited two apartments in San Francisco and one place in Cangrejo, which is a part of Bella Vista. Although people had informed me that El Cangrejo was a cool place to live because it was highly populated by foreigners, I desired to live amongst Panamanians, so I opted to for a room in an apartment with a nice view in San Francisco. (This failed because San Francisco was highly residential and there were few spaces for interaction with Panamanians or the local community.)

As time went on I began to spend more and more time at my friend’s apartment in Cangrejo. (Yes, the same Cangrejo that I once turned my nose down on because too many foreigners lived there, lol.)

And just like your typical boy/girl next-door love story, (the kind where you meet the guy and don’t like him at first because he is not your type), I fell in love---madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love with Via Argentina. I vowed to find a place there to live within my budget. I searched in November. I sort of searched in December. Couldn’t do it in January. Forgot about it in February. Revisited the idea in March. Couldn’t afford it in April. Got too comfortable in May. Moved out in June. Summer in the DMV. Returned in August. Went back on the search and…

can you see the glow of love? :)

A year later, I am now one of the expats living, and I mean living that street. I am motivated by the hustle and bustle of the trendy area. I meet and chat with people that I run into as a I stroll.  I feel empowered by the fact that I can just walk outside of my building to Fruteria Mimi and buy one avocado, one plantain, coconut water, and a piece of chocolate all for $3.00. Gone are the days where I would be lugging my week’s groceries from the neighborhood grocery store, sweat dripping, dreading the fact that if I forgot something I would have to walk back. Gone are the days where I would postulate taking a taxi back to my apartment after grocery shopping but end up walking. Now my days are filled with ideas about what I want to eat daily---and the best part of it, I can literally just hurry down the steps and go to the Fruteria or Casa de Carne if I need something that goes beyond the scope of your local mini market.

For the days when I don’t feel like cooking a full meal for myself, [which the frequency of these days has been increasing steadily], I can float down Via Argentina and peruse the menus while I wait for my palate to jump at the idea of a particular taste. On lazy days, I opt for an imported Hass avocado and a French baguette. J

Flip flops, $5.00, ID in-hand, I breeze down Via Argentina in my flowy skirts. Midriffs, braids caressing my waistline, I feel liberated; feels good to be the new girl on the block.